Song For The Rich
by FallingWords
Summary: The lifestyle Tom Quincy used to glorify has finally caught up and consumed him, and Jude is left to be the rock in his crumbling life. A one shot. Song by Tristan Prettyman.


**Get off work about 4 o'clock**

"Kwest, really, I need to get going." Jude looked at the delicate watch on her wrist for the 5th time in the last hour.

"Jude, we're nowhere near done. And why are you always running off? It's like clockwork, every wednesday, you need to run out of here. You know we have a deadline to meet."

She let out a sigh, "Kwest, I know, but I really need to leave, I have to go meet with-" She suddenly got quiet and looked down at the floor before finishing her sentence, "someone."

**and I'm late again**

He just shrugged and motioned for her to leave. She gave a sad, grateful smile to him before packing up her belongings, her guitar was carefully placed in it's case, her journal stuffed in the side pocket of the case. With her purse slung over her shoulder and case over the other, she hurried out of the studio, but not before Kwest called out her name as she was at the door.

"Jude, tell him I miss him."

Jude froze at the door, "What?" Her voice was hoarse, no one was supposed to knolw about who she slipped off to meet.

"Jude, come on. No one else nows, but I was his best friend. Just tell him I miss him, please."

Her hand gripped the door knob before nodding slightly. Leaving the studio, she ducked out of the office quickly, her head down and ignoring the calls of Liam, his terse voice callig after her, threatening her with her job and contract as he did each week- she still had a job and studio time though.

**cause you'll be here by 6:30**

Throwing her guitar and purse in the backseat of the Mustang, she quickly slid behind the wheel turning the key in the ignition. She glanced down at the digital read out of the clock. She was going to be late again but he would forgive her. He probably wouldn't even notice.

**We'll go looking for a close parking spot again**

She pulled into the lot by the docks where they always met. Another place would be safer, more private, but for some reason, the paperazzi had backed off of Tom Quincy, surprisingly enough. Maybe the loss of his job was enough for make them feel somewhat sorry. Or they saw him for the has-been he was now. They moved on to bigger and better targets, Patsy was always putting on a show for the masses. She saw him sitting on the bench, the very one of one of their very first encounters. Even from behind his posture looked defeated and worn down. His shoulders and slumped and hunched forward.

They had grown so distant since all this came out, but she meet him once a week, never giving up on him. She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, enough to get his attention. He turned and smiled at her hallowly. Their routine never deviated. She met him at the docks, they drove to the center together in her car- it was less recognizable than his.

**Sitting in a room full of believers now**

They walked into the room, everyone was already there, sitting in a circle of metal folded chairs, nametags on displaying their names, one of the last things they remember about themselves. He hated going but she knew he did it for her. She reached out for his hand- it was always cold in hers now- and led him to the last two seats waiting for them, one next to another.

The leader of the group smiled at him condecendingly. As if he was better because he had beat his addiction and now led the support group for addicts. He stood at the head of the circle in his ill fitting pleated pants with a drab cardigan over his plaid button down. What a sucess story...but at least he was clean. Hadn't had alcohol in five years now. He told the same sucess story every meeting.

**You tell me what's wrong and what's right**

He began his speech as he always did, introducing himself. He told everyone what lead him to see the light of sobriety, the death of a little girl he in a car he swerved into. He then turned to the person on his left, it was always his left, and asked them to introduce themself and explain why they were here. Some were new people, some were regulars. There was Claire, she hadn't cut in three months now, Daniel who slipped up and got drunk last week, Steven who's wife left him because of his pornography addiction, and Tracey who wanted to stop purging.

**Cause I look over at you baby**

Person after person, the addictions varying, all of them ashamed and looking to change for themselves or for someone. Jude watched Tommy as the speakers got close and closer to him, He rubbed his palms against the faded denim of his jeans, the sense of anxiety still there though they did this week after week. As the person to speak before Tommy stood up, Jude reached over and and held his hand in hers, she squeezed it reassuringly, watching him carefully as he stared down at the glint of florescent lighting reflecting off of the waxy finish of the lineolium.

**and you got your good intentions focused so tight.**

Sandra, who had a problem with binge eating finished introducing herself and sat down and all eyes were on Tommy. He took a deep breath and slowly stood up, Jude's hand slipping from his own. He fidgeted awkwardly in front of everyone- he had become another person since his music days. He was withdrawn, quiet, not the charismatic person he once was. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes for a brief moment before beginning his story, as he did each week.

**What's wrong with a little bit of experimentation**

"I'm Tommy," His voice echoed in the hallow space, everyone greeted him monotonously, in a very cultish manner.

"I used to sing, for a living. At the time, it was a life I was proud of. Drug, sex, rock and roll. What everyone hears about, and what everyone wants to be a part of. I left the group and wanted to persue a solo career..."

He started his story off the same way, it was a story that Jude could tell by now, hearing it week after week, emotionless stupor and all. There was no emotion, there was nothing as he spoke, his eyes reflected the same dead sentiment.

"The alcohol was never a problem, and one night, in a VIP room, they all started doing lines, asked if I wanted to try. I told myself it would only be a one time thing."

**to open the eyes of the new generation?**

Everyone in the room nodded as if they understood his story, as if they had done the same thing before. Jude wanted to laugh bitterly at all of them. She didn't care about them, she didn't know them, she didn't have to take them to their support group. Porn wouldn't kill you, overeating a couple of times wouldn't do it either. All it took was once, once and he would be gone. And her world would come crashing down around her.

"I had never felt so...numb before. I could forget all the shit that was happening in my life, it made the one night stands easier. I felt...invincible. Like I could do anything, and nothing could hurt me. And so it became a routine until I left the group. And then it wasn't around, and I was okay with that. But once my solo album was taken away from me, I found it again one night, always in the back room."

**build your world on an empty foundation**

"I couldn't function without it. I'd have these binges...alcohol, snow, and women, it became this never ending cycle. Most people didn't notice." He got quiet and turned to look at Jude, her eyes unreadable.

"I lived for the weekends, when I wasn't working- I'd book a hotel room, invite people over, we'd all get trashed and high together. People having sex where ever there was available space." He paused before continuing, "I had a friend, and somehow...she found out, or followed me to the hotel that night. And I...will never forget the look on her face. She ran out and the worst part of it all was...I didn't even try to go after her."

Heads nodded sympathetically and murmurs of agreement rang thoughout, the once sign of addiction they all faced together. Letting everything else slip away.

**and watch it all blow away**

Final parting words were said. Words of encouragment- saying addiction was a devil meant to be overcome. A sad array of refreshments were available, and people mingled and consoled one another. Jude stood off in a corner with Tommy, her arms folded across her chest, a small dixie cup of red punch in grasped in her hand. Finally speaking up, she kept her eyes firmly on the pale red liquid.

"So, I convinced Kwest to let me go early again, but I was thinking about going back to the studio, I might have something to record. I know you usually just go back home, but I was wondering...if you wanted to go and listen to me? I don't think you've heard any of the stuff for this album..and no one should be there, they've been closing earlier so I'll just call up Kwest. He'd really like to see you again." They stood there awkwardly in front of each other, him contemplating going back to the very studio he was fired from, and her awaiting his answer.

"Alright."

**Well I haven't see you in awhile**

She nodded and smiled softly, "Alright." Dropping the cup into the large trash can on the way out, she reached out for his hand, for the first time in a long time, just to hold it.

The car ride was silent at first, the hum of the air conditioner working was the only noise in the car. She looked over at him, and studied him closely as she waited for the red light to change. His skin was sallow and dull. The circles under his eyes were only make more prominent by how thin he had become. Food obviously no longer a necessity. His clothes hung on his frame loosely, no amount of layering could hide his emaciated form.

**I miss our talks, I miss your smile**

"I miss you, I hope you know that. And I'm sorry, I never expected them to fire you. Had I known that, I would have never-"

"Stop, please." He refused to look at her, all she wanted was the best for him, for him to get help. And here he was, jobless and addicted.

"Right." Her voice was meek and hurt. Her hands twisted against the steering wheel, willing the light to change faster so she could distance herself from him somewhat. At least a wall of glass would make her feel more comfortable.

**Cause the look of innocence is priceless**

They pulled into the studio and got out of the car, neither say a word to the other. The only other car in the parking lot was Kwest's SUV parked in the last spot, on the far side of the lot. Jude got her guitar and journal out of the backseat and shut the door before leading Tommy to the door he had been hesitantly approaching. She looked back at him before opening the door, his once lively eyes were cold and dead, a hallow shade of blue occupied them.

**and baby right now you look so lifeless**

Tommy walked into the booth he was now a stranger too, Kwest genuinely surprised to see him. Jude snuck off into the recording booth to give them a moment to catch up, she sat on the stool under the mic, her guitar in her lap and notebook open infront of her. She flipped through the parchment pages of the journal Tommy had given her, looking for the song she had been working on. The binding was now worn and pages had lyrics or ideas scrawled out.

Tommy and Kwest sat side by side, Kwest behind the controls and Tommy focusing on Jude. Kwest's voice came over the headset, asking if she was ready, and at her nod, he pressed record and signaled her to start. The soft strains of an acoustic melody floated over the speakers in the mixing booth, and soon, Jude's voice accompanied it.

For most of the song, Jude focused on her chord progressions, her head down as she watched her hands move across the frets and strings of the guitar. But as she got to one of the last verse, she looked up and locked eyes with Tommy, her lyrics telling him everything she couldn't manage to find the words for.

**And now it hurts me so, to have to see you go**

**to watch this song break you down.**

**When there's nothing we can do and no one to get through,**

**remember all the things you tried to forget.**

As her voice faded away, she continued to strum the melody with the guitar, and gently hummed away, both fading away together.

Kwest signaled that he cut the recording and she nodded, setting her guitar down. She turned her back to the mixing booth as she sniffled lightly and wiped a stray tear from her eye. Once she had composed herself enough, she turned back around and immediately noticed the absense of Tommy. She cocked her head to the side, confused and Kwest just smiled at her sympathetically, in the same way the support group leader smiled at everyone there.

"Did he..." Her voice trailed off as he nodded.

Hurridly she walked out of the studio and through the lobby to the front enterance. She saw his figure retreating down the sidewalk, the street lamps casting an eerie glow on his depleated figure.

"Tommy!"

**And now it hurts me so to have to see you go**

He hunched over even more, and shoved his hands deeply into the front pockets of his jacket, his gate quickened.

"Tommy, please!" Jude broke into a job to catch up with him. As she reached him, her hand reached out and took a hold the sleeve of his jacket, turning him around. A man whom she didn't recognize faced her, and glared at her before removing her hand from his sleeve.

"Oh...I thought you were someone else...I'm sorry." Her cheeks flushed with heat and the man continued walking down the empty sidewalk.

Jude felt the tears sting her eyes as she turned in a slow circle, hoping to see Tommy. With him nowhere in sight, the hot salty drops fell freely, and she wrapped her arms around her frame as she cried silently on the street corner.

She felt an arm wrap around her and a voice whispering out calming words, "Shhh, Jude, it'll be okay." She sniffled and shook her head in disagreement.

"Come on, let's get you back inside alright?" Kwest arm tightened around her frame as he looked about one more time before leading Jude back inside.

**to watch this song break you downGet off work about 4 o'clock**

"Kwest, really, I need to get going." Jude looked at the delicate watch on her wrist for the 5th time in the last hour.

"Jude, we're nowhere near done. And why are you always running off? It's like clockwork, every Wednesday; you need to run out of here. You know we have a deadline to meet."

She let out a sigh, "Kwest, I know, but I really need to leave, I have to go meet with-" She suddenly got quiet and looked down at the floor before finishing her sentence, "someone."

**And I'm late again**

He just shrugged and motioned for her to leave. She gave a sad, grateful smile to him before packing up her belongings; her guitar was carefully placed in its case, her journal stuffed in the side pocket of the case. With her purse slung over her shoulder and case over the other, she hurried out of the studio, but not before Kwest called out her name as she was at the door.

"Jude, tell him I miss him."

Jude froze at the door, "What?" Her voice was hoarse, no one was supposed to know about who she slipped off to meet.

"Jude, come on. No one else knows, but I was his best friend. Just tell him I miss him, please."

Her hand gripped the doorknob before nodding slightly. Leaving the studio, she ducked out of the office quickly, her head down and ignoring the calls of Liam, his terse voice calling after her, threatening her with her job and contract as he did each week - she still had a job and studio time every time she came back.

**Cause you'll be here by 6:30**

Throwing her guitar and purse in the backseat of the Mustang, she quickly slid behind the wheel turning the key in the ignition. She glanced down at the digital read out of the clock. She was going to be late again but he would forgive her. He probably wouldn't even notice.

**We'll go looking for a close parking spot again**

She pulled into the lot by the docks where they always met. Another place would be safer, more private, but for some reason, the paparazzi had backed off of Tom Quincy, surprisingly enough. Maybe the loss of his job was enough for make them feel somewhat sorry. Or they saw him for the has-been he was now. They moved on to bigger and better targets, Patsy was always putting on a show for the masses. She saw him sitting on the bench, the very one of one of their very first encounters. Even from behind his posture looked defeated and worn down. His shoulders slumped and hunched forward.

They had grown so distant since all this came out, but she meets him once a week, never giving up on him. She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, enough to get his attention. He turned and smiled at her hollowly. Their routine never deviated. She met him at the docks; they drove to the center together in her car- it was less recognizable than his.

**Sitting in a room full of believers now**

They walked into the room, everyone was already there, sitting in a circle of metal folded chairs, nametags on displaying their names, one of the last things they remember about themselves. He hated going but she knew he did it for her. She reached out for his hand- it was always cold in hers now- and led him to the last two seats waiting for them, one next to another.

The leader of the group smiled at him condescendingly. As if he was better because he had beat his addiction and now led the support group for addicts. He stood at the head of the circle in his ill-fitting pleated pants with a drab cardigan over his plaid button down. What a success story...but at least he was clean. Hadn't had alcohol in five years now. He told the same success story every meeting.

**You tell me what's wrong and what's right**

He began his speech as he always did, introducing himself. He told everyone what lead him to see the light of sobriety, the death of a little girl in a car he swerved into. He then turned to the person on his left, it was always his left, and asked them to introduce themselves and explain why they were here. Some were new people some were regulars. There was Claire, she hadn't cut in three months now, Daniel who slipped up and got drunk last week, Steven who's wife left him because of his pornography addiction, and Tracey who wanted to stop purging.

**Cause I look over at you baby**

Person after person, the addictions varying, all of them ashamed and looking to change for themselves or for someone. Jude watched Tommy as the speakers got close and closer to him. He rubbed his palms against the faded denim of his jeans, the sense of anxiety still there though they did this week after week. As the person to speak before Tommy stood up, Jude reached over and held his hand in hers; she squeezed it reassuringly, watching him carefully as he stared down at the glint of florescent lighting reflecting off of the waxy finish of the linoleum.

**And you got your good intentions focused so tight**

Sandra, who had a problem with binge eating finished introducing herself and sat down and all eyes were on Tommy. He took a deep breath and slowly stood up, Jude's hand slipping from his own. He fidgeted awkwardly in front of everyone- he had become another person since his music days. He was withdrawn, quiet, not the charismatic person he once was. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes for a brief moment before beginning his story, as he did each week.

**What's wrong with a little bit of experimentation**

"I'm Tommy," His voice echoed in the hallow space, everyone greeted him monotonously, in a very cult-like manner.

"I used to sing, for a living. At the time, it was a life I was proud of. Drugs, sex, rock and roll. What everyone hears about, and what everyone wants to be a part of. I left the group and wanted to pursue a solo career..."

He started his story off the same way; it was a story that Jude could tell by now, hearing it week after week, emotionless stupor and all. There was no emotion, there was nothing as he spoke; his eyes reflected the same dead sentiment.

"The alcohol was never a problem, and one night, in a VIP room, they all started doing lines, asked if I wanted to try. I told myself it would only be a one time thing."

**To open the eyes of the new generation**

Everyone in the room nodded as if they understood his story, as if they had done the same thing before. Jude wanted to laugh bitterly at all of them. She didn't care about them, she didn't know them, and she didn't have to take them to their support group. Porn wouldn't kill you, overeating a couple of times wouldn't do it either. All it took was once, once and he would be gone. And her world would come crashing down around her.

"I had never felt so...numb before. I could forget all the shit that was happening in my life, it made the one night stands easier. I felt... invincible. Like I could do anything, and nothing could hurt me. And so it became a routine until I left the group. And then it wasn't around, and I was okay with that. But once my solo album was taken away from me, I found it again one night, always in the back room."

**Build your world on an empty foundation**

"I couldn't function without it. I'd have these binges... alcohol, snow, and women; it became this never-ending cycle. Most people didn't notice." He got quiet and turned to look at Jude, her eyes unreadable.

"I lived for the weekends, when I wasn't working- I'd book a hotel room, invite people over, we'd all get trashed and high together. People having sex wherever there was available space." He paused before continuing, "I had a friend, and somehow...she found out, or followed me to the hotel that night. And I... will never forget the look on her face. She ran out and the worst part of it all was... I didn't even try to go after her."

Heads nodded sympathetically and murmurs of agreement rang throughout, the one sign of addiction they all faced together. Letting everything else slip away.

**And watch it all blow away**

Final parting words were said. Words of encouragement - saying addiction was a devil meant to be overcome. A sad array of refreshments was available, and people mingled and consoled one another. Jude stood off in a corner with Tommy, her arms folded across her chest, a small Dixie cup of red punch grasped in her hand. Finally speaking up, she kept her eyes firmly on the pale red liquid.

"So, I convinced Kwest to let me go early again, but I was thinking about going back to the studio, I might have something to record. I know you usually just go back home, but I was wondering... if you wanted to go and listen to me? I don't think you've heard any of the stuff for this album...and no one should be there, they've been closing earlier so I'll just call up Kwest. He'd really like to see you again." They stood there awkwardly in front of each other, him contemplating going back to the very studio he was fired from, and her awaiting his answer.

"Alright."

**Well I haven't seen you in awhile**

She nodded and smiled softly, "Alright." Dropping the cup into the large trashcan on the way out, she reached out for his hand, for the first time in a long time, just to hold it.

The car ride was silent at first; the hum of the air conditioner working was the only noise in the car. She looked over at him, and studied him closely as she waited for the red light to change. His skin was sallow and dull. The circles under his eyes were only made more prominent by how thin he had become. Food was obviously no longer a necessity. His clothes hung on his frame loosely; no amount of layering could hide his emaciated form.

**I miss our talks, I miss your smile**

"I miss you, I hope you know that. And I'm sorry; I never expected them to fire you. Had I known that, I would have never-"

"Stop, please." He refused to look at her; all she wanted was the best for him, for him to get help. And here he was, jobless and addicted.

"Right." Her voice was meek and hurt. Her hands twisted against the steering wheel, willing the light to change faster so she could distance herself from him somewhat. At least a wall of glass would make her feel more comfortable.

**Cause the look of innocence is priceless**

They pulled into the studio and got out of the car, neither saying a word to the other. The only other car in the parking lot was Kwest's SUV parked in the last spot, on the far side of the lot. Jude got her guitar and journal out of the backseat and shut the door before leading Tommy to the door he had been hesitantly approaching. She looked back at him before opening the door, his once lively eyes were cold and dead, a hallow shade of blue occupied them. 

**And baby right now you look so lifeless**

Tommy walked into the booth he was now a stranger too, Kwest genuinely surprised to see him. Jude snuck off into the recording booth to give them a moment to catch up; she sat on the stool under the mic, her guitar in her lap and notebook open in front of her. She flipped through the parchment pages of the journal Tommy had given her, looking for the song she had been working on. The binding was now worn and pages had lyrics or ideas scrawled out.

Tommy and Kwest sat side by side, Kwest behind the controls and Tommy focusing on Jude. Kwest's voice came over the headset, asking if she was ready, and at her nod, he pressed record and signaled her to start. The soft strains of an acoustic melody floated over the speakers in the mixing booth, and soon, Jude's voice accompanied it.

For most of the song, Jude focused on her chord progressions, her head down as she watched her hands move across the frets and strings of the guitar. But as she got to part of the last verse, she looked up and locked eyes with Tommy, her lyrics telling him everything she couldn't manage to find the words for.

**And now it hurts me so, to have to see you go  
To watch this song break you down  
When there's nothing we can do and no one to get through  
Remember all the things you tried to forget.**

As her voice faded away, she continued to strum the melody with the guitar, and gently hummed away, both fading away together.

Kwest signaled that he cut the recording and she nodded, setting her guitar down. She turned her back to the mixing booth as she sniffled lightly and wiped a stray tear from her eye. Once she had composed herself enough, she turned back around and immediately noticed the absence of Tommy. She cocked her head to the side, confused and Kwest just smiled at her sympathetically, in the same way the support group leader smiled at everyone there.

"Did he..." Her voice trailed off as he nodded.

Hurriedly she walked out of the studio and through the lobby to the front entrance. She saw his figure retreating down the sidewalk, the street lamps casting an eerie glow on his depleted figure.

"Tommy!"

**And now it hurts me so to have to see you go**

He hunched over even more, and shoved his hands deeply into the front pockets of his jacket, his gait quickened.

"Tommy, please!" Jude broke into a job to catch up with him. As she reached him, her hand reached out and took a hold the sleeve of his jacket, turning him around. A man whom she didn't recognize faced her, and glared at her before removing her hand from his sleeve.

"Oh...I thought you were someone else... I'm sorry." Her cheeks flushed with heat and the man continued walking down the empty sidewalk.

Jude felt the tears sting her eyes as she turned in a slow circle, hoping to see Tommy. With him nowhere in sight, the hot salty drops fell freely, and she wrapped her arms around her frame as she cried silently on the street corner.

She felt an arm wrap around her and a voice whispering out calming words, "Shhh, Jude, it'll be okay." She sniffled and shook her head in disagreement.

"Come on, let's get you back inside alright?" Kwest arm tightened around her frame, as he looked about one more time before leading Jude back inside.

**To watch this song break you down**


End file.
